“Is it from the Forelands watch?” Rebecca jumped to her feet, and Caroline grabbed the note from the salver. “Hurry and open it.”
“It is from Deptford.” Caroline furrowed her brow and then shrieked. “Bloody hell, our men have docked.”
A wave of panic struck the elegant back parlor, as Alex toppled her plate from her lap, and Rebecca almost tripped over the table.
“I must away, as Dirk is, no doubt, en route to our home.” Rebecca all but ran for the door. “Take care, ladies. And enjoy the ride.”
“Oh, dear.” Alex kissed Caroline’s cheek. “In the time it took the messenger to reach the city, Jason will have started his journey, too. I must prepare myself.”
“You will understand if I do not see you out,” Caroline replied, as they scrambled into the hall. “As Trevor will want—well, you know what our husbands want.”
“I do, indeed.” Alex wasted no energy in donning her coat and hurried out the front portal, where her coach parked. To the driver she shouted, “Make haste, make haste.”
After a short but white-knuckled trip through the streets of London, she flew into the Collingwood town residence.
The butler stood in the foyer. “There is an urgent communication for you—”
“Yes, I know, Haynes. Captain Collingwood is returned, and we may expect him at any minute.” As she soared up the stairs, she hollered over her shoulder, “Send my lady’s maid, immediately.”
In the bedchamber she shared with Jason, Alex kicked off her slippers and tugged at her laces.
“My lady, let me help you.” Lily rushed into the room.
“No, as I am almost free.” Alex shimmied out of her morning dress. “Fetch the red velvet gown, and hurry, as we have not a second to spare.
It had taken months, but Alex had worked hard to regain her figure, until she could wear the very dress that had tempted her captain, more than two years ago, in the Richmond’s ballroom, without the painful lacing. At last, garbed and coiffed to perfection, Alex assessed her appearance in the long mirror and smiled.
“Your ladyship, you look beautiful.” Lily curtseyed. “Cap’n will be beside himself. Will that be all, ma’am?”
“Yes.” Oh, her lusty captain would be a vast deal more than beside himself. He would be inside her, over her, atop her, behind her, and beneath her. Alex strolled into the sitting room. “As usual, I would like a light repast and a hot bath, approximately three hours after the captain arrives.”
As she considered the logistics of Jason’s reception, Alex laughed. On normal occasions, when she met her husband at the dock, he pounced as soon as they entered their coach and lowered the shades, so his attack was somewhat tempered, by the time they reached their bed. As the situation presented unique circumstances, she knew not what anticipate.
“If you will tidy my things, and turn down the covers, you may take the rest of the afternoon off.” With that, Alex inhaled a deep, calming breath and glided along the hall. As she stood at the landing, Jason charged into the foyer.
Remaining stock-still, with his gaze locked on hers, her husband handed his coat, hat, gloves, and rucksack to Haynes. Then, without a word, he bounded in her direction, and she set course for him.
With her arms outstretched, she welcomed him. “Captain of my heart, how I missed—”
They collided midway up the grand staircase, and he covered her mouth with his, but Jason retraced her path, and carried her to the gallery. Pinning her against the wall, he bent and buried his face in her bosom, and her knees buckled.
“I remember that dress and the sumptuous body it conceals.” He nipped her chin, as he grabbed her derriere and pressed her into his erection. When her husband was aroused, he employed every inch of his hearty frame to entice and seduce. “But if you wish to keep the frock in one piece, you will remove it, as you have ten minutes to fortify yourself, my delectable wife. First, I will visit our sons, and then I am coming for you, in more ways than one. I want you naked and in our bed, else I will not be responsible for my conduct and the destruction of your attire.”
“Your wish is my command, Captain of my heart.” She trailed her tongue along his jaw, and then she caressed the ridge of his stout cannon. “And I ache to kiss you, right here.”
“Bloody hell, Alex.” He growled. “Woman, I am about to spill my seed in my breeches, so I rescind my previous offer, which is far too generous. You may have five minutes. Go—now.” Then he turned and sprinted to the nursery.
“Hurry, Lily.” When Alex re-entered her bedchamber, she kicked off her slippers, in a comical sense of déjà vu, and the lady’s maid started. “Unlace me, as Captain Collingwood is in residence, and I have no time to spare.”
While the maid loosened the gown, Alex pulled the pins from her hair. After stepping from the dress, she bent, unhooked her garters, and rolled down her stockings. Wearing only her chemise, she grabbed a brush and smoothed her wayward locks.
“You are dismissed, Lily.” Alex perched on the mattress. “Enjoy your day.”
With a vivid blush, the maid curtseyed. “You, too, your ladyship.”
Alone, Alex drew the slip over her head and flung it to the floor. Naked, she crawled to the middle of the expansive four-poster, fluffed the pillows, reclined on her side, and draped her hair over her shoulder.
Like a man on a mission, Jason barged into the room, met her stare, licked his lips, and smiled. As he neared, he doffed his cravat, coat, and waistcoat, but nothing else. Instead, he unfastened his collar, unhooked his breeches, and worked his length, and she ignited. Then, without warning, he grasped her ankles, dragged her to the end of the mattress, bent, and entered her in one powerful thrust.
And so the voluptuous assault commenced.
For the next three hours, Jason took Alex against the wall, on the floor, against the corner post of the footboard, bent over the washstand, in the bed, on the two-seater bench, atop the table, and in the overstuffed chair in the sitting room.
Later, they lounged in a much deserved, soothing hot bath.
Sitting between his legs, she rested her head to his chest and sighed, as he toyed with her nipple.
“I missed you.” He pressed his lips to her temple.
“Really?” She squeezed his thighs. “I had not noticed.”
“I wager you will, tonight, when I return from the debriefing.” He caught the crest of her ear with his teeth. “As I shall make love to you, until dawn.”
“Only until then?” She sniffed. “My captain can do better.”
“What a demanding little thing I have married.” He lifted her into his lap. “But I would have you no other way, love.”
“Then consider that my welcome home gift, to you.” She shifted, found the perfect angle, and joined their bodies.
“That reminds me, I have my customary offering to your incomparable beauty.” Leaning over the edge of the tub, he retrieved his rucksack, which rested on the floor, and drew a curious object from the bag. “For my bride, as I was at sea for our first such special occasion, as husband and wife.”
“How remarkable.” The octagonal-shaped box, made of mahogany, reminded her of their private apartment at Stratfield Manor. But the contents quite took her breath away. Clusters of colorful flowers filled the container, and a pink heart rested at the center, holding three delicate blooms. An outer circle boasted the phrase: Forget me not when far away. “Why, the flowers are comprised of tiny sea shells. Never have I seen anything like it.”
“Then you are pleased?” Jason inquired, in an earnest tone.
“I love it—and you.” True to his promise, her nautionnier knight never forgot her. Whenever he returned to England’s shores, he always arrived with an expression of devotion. She peered over her shoulder and then kissed him. “Captain of my heart.”
“How I live for that.” He rocked his hips, she clenched her muscles, and he hissed, as he initiated the delicate dance. “And I would have been surprised were you familiar with such artw
ork, as it is a sailor’s valentine. The tars make them for their sweethearts. When I first commissioned in the navy, I knew not where I belonged. As I was lowborn, I had nothing in common with the pedigreed midshipmen, but neither did I blend with the noncommissioned hands. An old kitchen mate taught me the craft, but I always threw them in the trash, as I had no sweetheart, so you are the lone recipient of my handiwork.”
“Darling, I treasure it.” She tilted, assumed control of the mating ritual, and he tensed beneath her. “But what is the significance of the three flowers, within the heart?”
“There is one for each of my loves.” He quickened his pace, and the water sloshed. “You and our sons.”
“Perhaps we should save this for our children, as it is the appropriate number, and you can make another one, just for me, on your next journey.” She bit her lip and allowed the words to penetrate his thoughts.
“But we only have two—”
Alex knew the precise instant Jason realized the significance of her statement, as he stilled, and his countenance sobered. Then, to her unutterable amazement, he bowed his head and closed his eyes.
“Oh, no.” With great care, she deposited the unique valentine on the floor, twisted in his lap, and framed his face. “Jason, please. Do not cry, as this is most wonderful news.”
“Sorry, darling. I missed this moment, with our first babes, and I fear you have turned me into a milksop.” He chuckled, as a tear trailed his cheek. “So we have another Collingwood in the making?”
“That is all right, as I wept, too, when Dr. Handley made the confirmation.” Now he favored her with an inexpressibly tender kiss, which he abruptly ceased, to her dismay.
“Sweetheart, while I adore my heirs, I would set the world at your feet, if you give me a daughter just like you.” He hugged her tight. “My gorgeous wife, I am so glad I married you.”
“But you have already given me the world.” She nuzzled his neck. “And all I want is you.”
Then, to her shock and confusion, he wrenched hard and held her at arm’s length.
“Bloody hell, Alex, you should have told me of your pregnancy, given I just waylaid you, as a randy barbarian.” Then Jason winced and raked his fingers through his hair. “And when I think of how I handled you, when I bent you over the washstand and took your bottom, I was deuced rough.” Then he groaned. “And we broke the damned chair—really, you should have said something.”
“What, and have you temper your delicious assault?” She glanced at the crumpled piece of furniture, which sat askew, with a broken leg and a splintered armrest dangling, and giggled. “Not a chance, and I can purchase another chair. But I shall never forget your genius maneuver, involving that new two-seater bench. Just thinking of it gives me shivers, and I can’t wait to use it, again.”
“I have a confession to make, as I cannot, in good conscience, take credit for that gem of brilliance.” He frowned and cupped her cheek. “Dirk gave me the idea, but I never should have employed that tactic, given your delicate state. Did I hurt you, angel?”
“No, as I enjoyed every minute of your naughty invasion.” Now she rotated fully, bringing them chest-to-chest. Dropping her knees to either side of his thighs, she rocked, and he grabbed her bottom. With a shriek of elation, she rode her man hell-bent for leather to a fiery finish, as water splashed the carpet.
When she, at last, collapsed in Jason’s embrace, he lifted her from the bath. With a towel, he dried her, as though she were a priceless treasure, and carried her to bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, Alex dozed. Fanciful visions and whimsical vignettes invested her dreams, weaving a cherished future, which once had persisted only in the realm of fantasy. Minutes later, she roused, when Jason kissed her.
“Rest, my darling wife, as you need to recover.” Garbed in gentleman’s attire, he reached beneath the covers to caress her flat belly as he rubbed his nose to hers. “When I return from the debriefing, we will dine in our sitting room, whereupon I shall feed you every morsel, as you lounge in my lap, and then I intend to make love to you, gently, all night.”
“We shall see about that, the gently part, I mean.” She twined her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him close for another kiss. “And is that a promise?”
“You may depend upon it.” Then he drew her bottom lip into his mouth and suckled her tender flesh. “I love you, Alex.”
On her bedside table, he had placed the precious sailor’s valentine beside the miniature replica of the Intrepid, which he had given her at Stratfield Manor, and the journal in which she kept her collection of his original, ribald poetry. Never had she journeyed without the irreplaceable keepsakes. Countless times, during their unconventional courtship, she had envisioned such tender scenarios, and at last, Alex had won the much-desired prize. Cupping his cheek, she smiled. “And I love you, Captain of my heart.”
Excerpt from The Lucky One
Book Six of the Brethren of the Coast Series
Coming in Spring 2015
CHAPTER ONE
The Descendants
Portsmouth, England
March, 1814
The diminutive, hooded thief, bearing a rucksack over his shoulder, skulked along the waist, hesitated for a scarce second, and then scampered below decks and into the cargo hold. Following in the scoundrel’s wake, Dalton Randolph hugged the shadows and grinned, as the unknown gadling lifted the lid on a barrel and retrieved several potatoes.
After a French ship had landed one too many direct hits to the Siren’s boards, Dalton had anchored off Portsea Island for an emergency field refitting. Once the leaks had been sealed, he had permitted the greater portion of his crew to indulge in a bit of local entertainment, while he remained aboard ship.
As a Nautionnier Knight of the Brethren of the Coast, a daring band of experienced sea captains descended of the Templars, the warriors of the Crusades, he savored the quiet hours, with nothing but the wind thrumming in the rat lines, and the waves lapping at the hull. And stargazing reigned supreme as a particular favored hobby, so he often doused the stern lanterns and studied the night sky, which is why the three bandits had not noted his presence, or the first mate, when they scampered over the larboard rail.
Given the interloper’s small frame, Dalton guessed the criminal could not have been more than a lad. As the Siren’s stores contained plenty of supplies, and hunger persisted during times of war, he abided the bit of mischief, in the spirit of generosity.
The plunderer bent to pilfer a tin of tea, and his breeches stretched taut over his backside. To Dalton’s amazement, he realized the villain was a woman, as he would know the telltale shapely, feminine derriere from a distance of fifty paces. Judging from the silhouette, the mystery lady had been blessed with a prime figure, which he ached to know on a more intimate level.
“You know, there are easier ways to earn a bit of coin and food, my dear.” He emerged from his hiding place. “Take off your hood, and let me gaze upon the rest of you. If I like what I see, we may broker a deal.”
The infinitely interesting prey shrieked and cringed. Then she edged toward the companion ladder, but he beat her to it.
“Come now, dove. There is no need to fear me, as we might strike a bargain, which benefits us, both.” Now he noted her ample bosom, as his soon-to-be bunkmate faced him. Fascinated, he longed to assess her complexion, as he splayed his arms wide. “And if you apply yourself, in earnest, and please me, I shall bestow upon you a handsome reward, and you need never burgle passing ships, again, as it is dangerous business.”
When he moved in her direction, she emitted the softest whimper and retreated. Clutching the bag to her chest, she skittered to the left and sheltered behind a few crates of vegetables. His quarry was fast, but Dalton was faster. As he closed the distance between them, she leaped atop a heap of sacks, containing rice and dried beans.
The thrill of the chase burned in his loins and piqued the pirate in his pants, which had suffered serious neglect, in
recent months. Given the importuning antics of his latest paramour, the well-used Lady Moreton, whose harbor had seen more action than Deptford, he sported for a new conquest, and it appeared she had found him, to his credit.
In the soft lamplight, he discovered the purest blue eyes he had ever glimpsed, peeking from the mask, and a lush mouth with lips as red as a pomegranate, and he had to have her. But the captivating swindler remained mute and refused to cooperate, as she evaded his spontaneous lunge. While his grand maneuver granted him nothing more than a close inspection of the wood grain on the deck, she availed herself of the opportunity to sprint to the companion ladder, and he shot to his feet and pursued what he vowed would be his future courtesan.
At the waist, she collided with one of her cohorts, just as shouts of alarm signaled the first mate and the cook, who wielded a large frying pan, as they chased the third conspirator.
“Come back here, you rascal.” Mr. Allen bounded onto the deck, with a pistol aimed at the tallest of the boarders. “You there, hold hard.”
“As you were, Mr. Allen.” Dalton stayed the first mate. “There is no need for violence, given the lady and I have just entered negotiations. What say you, pretty britches? I shall let your friends go free, if you agree to spend the night with me.”
For a few seconds, the odd trio shuffled their feet and exchanged wary glances. Then the two heartier thieves drew the woman to the rear and shook their heads.
“More’s the pity.” Dalton chuckled. “As you leave me no option but to summon the watch and have you arrested.”
The female flinched, and he could smell her fear. Together, the clumsy band of vagabonds inched closer to the rail. When the woman peered over the side, he guessed her intent.
“Steady, love. Do not attempt something you might later regret, as we are all friends, here.” With palms upraised in implied surrender, Dalton glanced at the first mate. “Mr. Allen, lower the weapon.”
“They are the worst sorts of blackguards, sir.” The first mate vented a snort of disgust. “And I would teach them a lesson—”
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